


Stardust In You and Me (Fuse Us Into Unity)

by PeroxidePrincess (thedisasternerd)



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Drabble, Feelings, Feels, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mania Era, Platonic Soulmates, Polyamory, Requited Unrequited Love, Stargazing, True Love, ahhhhhhh, i cried, im sorry, okay that's weirder out loud than in my head, sorta for the last two, what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15998219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedisasternerd/pseuds/PeroxidePrincess
Summary: The boys and their families decide to spend a night under the stars.Pete and Patrick slip away to stare at the skies - and each other.They couldn't really ask for anything more."The Last of the Real Ones is about falling in love with someone who has the same glitches as you."-PW





	Stardust In You and Me (Fuse Us Into Unity)

**Author's Note:**

> This's been circling round in my head ever since I first listened to STARSET's Starlight - I get inspired by music - and here you go. The Last of the Real Ones did not help.  
> I need fluff and I have a very sweet tooth.  
> Just saying.  
> (I can have as many as 4 teaspoons of sugar in my tea, so)  
> Enjoy, and although you're probably not going to, but I cried writing this.  
> RESPECT to the families of FOB and all that stuff.  
> I was unsure about getting the children involved - I mean, being a baby and being mentioned in fanfic is pretty... D: ...if you get me - but then thought "fuck it"  
> :)  
> -21  
> As always, this is unbeta'd so don't hate to bad... constructive criticism, however, is appreciated.  
> Title from 'Starlight' by STARSET

_Don't fear for futures and dreams_

They leave quitely, just as Bronx and Declan start sizing each other up, as the women start chattering.

Marie and Elisa are swapping and comparing recipes (the positive impact of being introduced to Patricia Stump) while Meagan floats around, listening and keeping a watchful eye on Bronx, Declan and Saint, who are now squabbling about who was the best rock-star and pestering Andy (their hero) about it; Ruby in turn cooing over Marvel. The youngest member of the Stump family toddled around Joe, having developed a fascination for the guitarist's hair - and who was much more tolerant than "Big Bwuther-Wuther" Declan (who had inherited his mother's curls and provided an ideal toy for his younger brother - at the right height, too) about having it pulled. They make sure the children won't amble into the campfire by accident, and, leaving Meagan to the distribution of food, they slip away when Joe gives them a wink that is too warm, too knowing and gentle to really be considered trademark.

_It's okay, I promise_

They settle a few hundred metres away, just in range to hear the buzzing of familiar voices, but to be out of the flickering, earthy light of the fire, out of sight. They huddle, nestled into each other, fitting like two pieces of a two-piece jigsaw, Pete gently shushing his other half as Patrick looks back, ever the concerned father.

_I don't know what to say_

They watch the stars, the igniting galaxies, and let themselves be washed in the clear light; the doubt, the frustration, the pining all fading to reveal the certainty, the truth, that was always there.

They don't need to talk, never have - they have always been able to read each other's minds with a look, a simple brush of fingers - a smile more than enough. They just sit there, in awe of the constellations, but more importantly - each other, the _we_ that they are, not Pete, not Patrick, but the _Peteandpatrick._ Because that is what they are. Two bodies with one soul, hearts synchronised for eternity. Complete, the end of infinity in front of them, for ever. Together not until they die, but until everything, time, space, dimension, stops existing. United as one not for life, but for ever. They're a couple born from the universe, primeval, invincibly together

_But I'm gonna want you 'til the stars evaporate_

Pete has always wanted Patrick, for ever and ever, to keep him, cherish him, kiss him before going to sleep, to kiss him when they wake up, spend every waking second, every sleeping minute with this man - his other half, his fucking _soulmate._ They're already as inseperable as you can get - hanging next to each other during shows, interviews, shaing a bus - and on the unfortunately rare occasion, a bunk - sharing a dream, sharing creativity, sharing oxygen, sharing their own faults that are supposed to be unique.

And Pete can't help but stare, stare at those glittering riptide eyes, the cold flames of the heavens reflecting in them despite the thick-rimmed glasses, stare at the high cheekbones, the full lips - especially the plush lower lip Patrick has the luck to possess, the strands of cinnamon-blonde hair feathering out from under cap, all the way down to those slender fingers Pete has always fantasised about, delicately and loosely curled into Pete's jacket.

Without thinking, he gently takes off the hat, smiling at Patrick's momentary frown and squawk of indignant surprise before running his own tan, calloused hand through the thinning locks, twirling a strand idly as Patrick sighs and leans into the touch. He accidentally pulls a bit too hard, making the gentle thrum Patrick had just started to give off stop abruptly. He slides his hand out of the soft hair and round broad shoulders, pressing an apologetic kiss to the younger man's temple. His chin comes into contact with the cool plastic of the glasses, and he realises that they too, have to go.

Patrick is surprisingly compliant to the wishes of Pete's subconscious - the succint force behind his doing of what Patrick usually hates - and the older man realises that the singer is probably aware of what Pete's doing, even though he himself doesn't know. He feels a surge of affection for the delicate creature snuggled under his arm and into his side, the smaller man blinking up at the bassist with such trust, such love, yet so vulnerable and open without the protection of his hat and his glasses. His milky, porcelain skin is almost glowing in the ethereal light of the celestial bodies above them, making him otherworldly and infinitely more special, more unique, only for Pete to see.

The glint of the silver ring distracts him momentarily, makes him see what they're doing.

He finds that he doesn't care.

Neither does Patrick.

_Your beauty conquers the darkness_

The older man slides his hand up from Patrick's shoulder, up the smooth skin of his neck, eliciting a fleeting shiver as it settles on the side of his face, thumb tracing over the angular cheekbones, fingers tangling in locks of feathery hair. He marvels, once again, at the stark contrast of their skin tones - just like them, light and dark, angelic and stained, dark, tough.

Those perfect, Cupid's-bow lips part for an instant, a hushed murmur of _"Pete"_ as those fragile yet calloused handsrun restlessly up, skimming across Pete's back and making the bassist groan softly just as slender arms wrap round his neck, the smaller man instinctively getting pulled into the older's lap as the taller man cups Patrick's face.

The tips of their noses brush, and their gazes, which have been locked ever since they sat down, flicker briefly behind just to check, to check that _their_ moment isn't getting intruded on, _their_ own, just theirs - not out of fear of getting caught, but for fear of having something purely _theirs_ taken away.

When the tip of a pink tongue flicks out over plump lips, and once again they're staring into each other's eyes, pupils blown, glittering with the question:  _"Can we? Should we?"_ Pete knows it's time for everything to fall into place, to answer a breathless _"Yes."_ to both of those questions, to kiss Patrick.

That he does.

 Everything in Pete's world explodes, because he's doing what he's supposed to be doing and yet something that's forbidden as petal soft lips part, the sharp tang of spearmint, honey and coffee suddenly appearing on his tongue, the vanilla scent forever wafting around the singer turning into a heady vanilla musk that makes his head spin, hands clenching around his shoulders, as they kiss and kiss and kiss, their worlds colliding and stitching together.

They part, like they've always had to - well, in this material life.

Patrick knocks their foreheads together, and there's a soft, gently smile on his face, tinged with the sadness of nostalgia.

The look that passes between them says it all.

_"Next time."_

But they're happy with what they have.

After all, they will never be seperated, not by death and not by cruel Fortune.

 

_Because they're simply meant to be_ **.** _  
_

**Author's Note:**

> This fits in with my Peterick theory - which is no longer in the making but in the slow publishing.  
> I feel like "soulmates" is infinitely more beautiful than material love, so for me, Peteandpatrick is just as amazing as Peterick - even if they are the same thing - at least for me (and Pete)  
> Hope you enjoyed that.  
> -21


End file.
